


Brave of Heart and Calm of Mind

by Feather_Quill_Ambition



Category: Sanders Sides, Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (and also Patton Angst a bit but mostly Logan Angst), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Logan angst, Logan is brave, Logan's room is... nice, M/M, Moving On Part 1: Exploring Nostalgia, Patton is a blessing, Patton's room is lowkey dangerous, Relationship Conversation, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, almost canon-compliant but it's not, and now there's fluff to make up for the angst, honestly my boy saves the day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-01-31 23:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12692361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feather_Quill_Ambition/pseuds/Feather_Quill_Ambition
Summary: '“There's no use apologising,” comes Patton’s voice, casual and hard in a way it’s never been, as he busies himself with examining the pile of objects on the couch. He doesn't look at Logan at all. “Not unless you mean it.”He sounds so non-expectant that something in Logan’s chest floods.“I know,” he says, forcing the words past the dryness in his throat, and Patton pauses. “That’s why I'm here.”'





	1. The Brave of Heart

**Author's Note:**

> It took me ages to come up with a semi-good title because I've spent the last month calling this 'Logicality #70' like some sort of perfume, and I just realised that isn't its actual name.
> 
> Written for the prompt: "I don't want you... I need you", requested by @treehouseart on Tumblr - about a month ago. I am so sorry this took so long, but I made it an extra-long twoshot (edit: threeshot, if that's a word) to try and make up for it.
> 
> Needless to say, I do not own Thomas Sanders or any of the aspects of his personality. Those are his.
> 
> This takes place after Moving On Part 1: Exploring Nostalgia, and is not canon-compliant to Part 2 ~~because I should have finished it before that even came out. I had life that needed seeing to and I apologise.~~
> 
> Hope you enjoy this (not-yet-)happy-ending angstfest.

Fact: Patton’s door is always firmly shut.

Fact: Until today, none of the others had seen the interior of his room; fact: until today, when he was cornered, Patton has never once invited any of them inside.

Fact: _“I’m at the core of a lot of your_ feelings.”

Fact: There are still tear tracks staining Logan’s cheeks.

It all seems painfully obvious now, and he wishes he could have seen the logic sooner, but if this whole mess taught him one thing, it’s that the past is in the past. Plus, if he doesn’t say this now, it’s going to haunt him forever in silence.

He braces himself, and softly knocks on Patton’s door. He’ll have to be brave for this.

* * *

Patton doesn’t respond at first because he doesn’t want to, but when Logan’s voice replaces the knocking, quiet and hoarse, his resolve breaks.

(He’s always been a pushover, he figures. Why stop now?)

He thinks of Virgil – _It’s like a band-aid. You just gotta rip it off._ He rests his palm briefly against the comfortingly sturdy door, summing up his courage, before yanking it open abruptly and leveling Logan with a flat stare.

Logan looks shocked, and Patton can understand why. His walls are down, his smile is gone, and his eyes are stinging and probably still red, and he takes a somewhat grim pleasure in seeing the man who thought he knew Patton react to his most genuine self.

Neither of them say anything for a short time, and the eye contact becomes almost unbearable. Then Logan breaks it as his eyes flick over the rest of his body, taking in the details: the crumpled polo, the socks, the hair that looks like a bird flew into it and got stuck. He, on the other hand, looks like a wreck himself, tie loose and hair falling in messy bangs over his face instead of neatly combed back, and – look at that – he’s been crying a bit.

Patton savagely squashes the instinctive bubble of _who made you cry I’ll find them_ , squares his shoulders and keeps looking Logan dead in the eye. Seconds tick by.

“Patton,” says Logan eventually, hesitantly. “I…”

“Why are you here?” says Patton bluntly, cutting him off.

Logan pulls himself together and swallows, measuring his words carefully.

“Can… I… come in?”

“No.”

He flinches. “Please? I… I’d like to… I need to say something to you.”

Patton takes in the other Side’s state, the crack in his voice, the way he's fidgeting with his sleeve instead of his glasses. He sees only honesty.

Wordlessly, he steps back from the door and walks over to the couch.

* * *

Logan takes a steadying breath and moves forward, surrendering himself to the warm, hazy glow. He's uncomfortable and he knows exactly why, but the fear is irrelevant and he refuses to let it command him.

If the circumstances were different, the room's illusive goldenness would have been calming. He tries not to think about how trapped he feels, and steps over the clutter as he makes his way over to Patton on the couch. He's not an expert – far from it – at reading visual cues, but when Patton makes no attempt to clear away the junk on the seat next to him, he takes it as a clue and remains standing, hoping it's the right thing to do.

“I, uhm,” he starts awkwardly in the stony silence, feeling too tall.

“There's no use apologising,” comes Patton’s voice, casual and hard in a way it’s never been, as he busies himself with examining the pile of objects on the couch. He doesn't look at Logan at all. “Not unless you mean it.”

He sounds so non-expectant that something in Logan’s chest floods.

“I know,” he says, forcing the words past the dryness in his throat, and Patton pauses. “That’s why I'm here.”

As he tunes in to his instincts – and it’s terrifying, surrendering careful thought, giving up the rationality that has defined him for as long as he can remember – he feels the glow kick in.

* * *

When Patton looks at him again, Logan is sinking to his knees on the carpet, fingers interlocked tightly in his lap and looking very much like he expects to disintegrate in the next few seconds.

It occurs to Patton just who he's dealing with.

He sighs, softly. “You figured it out, didn't you?”

Logan nods once, jerkily, and speaks fast and quietly. “I don't have much time. Maybe seven or eight minutes, before I’m rendered incoherent or have an anxiety attack, but I am hoping to optimise the time in between, and convince you I truly mean what I say.”

He takes a breath, and his eyes drop.

“In essence, it is harder to lie when one is in this room. Am I correct?”

* * *

Fact: Patton is Thomas’ morality.

Fact: Virgil struggled to choke out a “no” when trying to lie about his state to Thomas. Fact: Roman happily drowned in the memories Patton threw at them all, immersing himself in each experience in an attempt to distract himself from his thoughts. Fact: emotions have been lain bare in this room that would likely never have otherwise seen the light of day, in a terrifying and uncontrollable urge for catharsis.

Fact: Logan has felt that urge, has felt the flare of heightened anger speeding through his bloodstream in the form of _hurt,_ bursting out of his mouth in the form of _attack._ He knows he's better than that, but in Patton’s room, he wasn't. Here, emotion reigns supreme, and reason has no seat at the table.

Fact: Logan is Thomas’ reason. And that’s why, fact: Patton’s room makes him more scared than anything else. Without his reason governing him, what is he?

Already he feels himself growing lightheaded, the haze taking on a dreamlike, pinkish hue. Patton looks at him, stricken.

“You're gonna hurt yourself,” he bursts out. “Why are you doing this?”

Even when he hates him, Patton cares about him. Logan feels the inexplicable urge to cry.

* * *

Even when he tries to hate him, Patton loves him.

(It's not like Logan will ever understand that, but Patton continues to love him anyway, because one thing he has never been is logical.)

“I should think,” forces out Logan between breaths, a bitter smile stretching his face, “that my being a heartless robot would mean I can't get hurt.”

“You're _not_ a robot, Logan,” says Patton, laughing softly because he's used to laughing when he wants to cry and can’t stop doing it. “You have feelings just like the rest of us, so don't you dare try and make excuses for treating mine and Roman’s and Thomas’ feelings like useless _trash.”_

 _Ah, feelings,_ echoes Logan’s voice in his head. _The bane of my existence._

Logan stares at him, stricken, and then Patton realises he's crying.

* * *

Logan feels dizzy, but he can still register things.

Fact: he messed up. Fact: he's a terrible person. Fact: he is wrong, and Patton is right.

Fact: he's going to fix this.

He feels tears running down his face, and Patton looks horrified and conflicted. Logan understands; he's obviously warring with his responsibility as the comforter, the heart, the one who picks everyone up, and his resentment towards Logan.

“I…”

Patton sounds lost. Logan decides to make it easier for him, and lowers his head, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

“I know. I know, and I… I'm so sorry, Patton. I've been a fool, and… I hurt you, and I cannot forgive myself for that. And…”

“Logan,” says Patton softly, but Logan cuts him off.

“Please. Let me… say everything.”

He's not ready, but he'll never be, and with the buzz in his blood vessels he doesn't care. He has to say it, and he's terrified.

“I realise now that you feel I don't care about you. That I don't… want you in my life.”

He tentatively, slowly glances up at Patton, letting his feelings show on his face – all his feelings. The ones that he desperately wants Patton to see, and the ones he _needs_ Patton to see but which he’s almost - _almost_ \- too scared to name.

His voice breaks with his next words.

“That could not be further from the truth.”

A noise escapes Patton, muffled by the sleeve of his cardigan.

“Patton,” Logan ploughs on, finding it easier and easier with every word, “I recognise… that I have been remiss in acknowledging your immense value, and in letting you know just how much we all care for you – how much _I_ care for you. I don’t understand feelings easily, and I’ve never liked not understanding something, but I want to try. And I will try, because I don’t ever want to hurt you again the way I just did. I… You mean too much to me for that.”

Patton’s lowered himself to his knees in front of Logan while he was speaking, and now he reaches out for one of Logan’s hands, pulling it towards him and prying Logan’s fingers away gently from his tightly-clenched, trembling fist. Logan realises that he’s crying too.

“I messed up, Patton.” He exhales. “I messed up, and I’m so sorry. I should have realised you were hurting, and I should have treated you better. I am aware I don’t hold a place in this room. I’m not wanted here, and you obviously don’t want me around, and I understand that. But before I leave you be, I needed to tell you that I’m truly, deeply sorry, and to let you know… that I mean it from the bottom of my heart when I tell you that your existence has been more valuable to Thomas, and to me, than anything else. You are the person who understands the emotions I can’t, and you are the person who comforts, even when deprived of your own comfort. I can’t… do that, Patton. I don’t know how; I’m not… good at it.”

The words are spilling out, tumbling over themselves in a rush, and there’s a pain in his chest. Logan knows it’s coming soon.

“I need to… get this out.”

Here comes the zinger.

* * *

“You’ve never… been anything but… amazing… even to me.”

The words are punctuated by hitched breaths. Patton’s heart is in chaos.

“You’ve never been… rude or uncaring, even though I always am towards you. You’ve… always been supportive… and helped me feel validated, when… nobody else did. And in return, I… I… acted like I hated you. I hate mys… myself for it, and I wish I’d… told you before this. I’m terrible… at showing it… but I don’t hate you, Patton.”

Patton’s hands are shaking too.

“You mean more to me,” whispers Logan, and God, he _means_ it, “than anybody else. I appreciate you… so much. You are all the things I’m not, all the things Thomas needs, that I need. You keep me in check. Patton, I want… No, I don’t… I don’t _want_ you. I _need_ you.”

Logan is the independent beast of the Sides. Logan has always been the one who drives them all, who functions best in solitude and shuts people out of his space to get a job done. Logan needs no encouragement, no sentiment, no emotion clouding the cold face of rationality. Logan is the unbreakable, the Sherlock, the lone wolf. He sees attachment as a liability and Patton as a child.

But before Patton’s eyes, his Sherlock breaks down and cries in earnest, bowing his head. And Patton doesn’t shut him out. He reaches out and pulls the other Side into his arms.  
Logan sobs against him, shoulders heaving, and Patton holds him tight, wondering just how things managed to get this far. He closes his eyes and leans his cheek against Logan’s hair. Their hands are still interlocked.

“I don’t mean to be…” forces out Logan past choked breaths, “so… horrible. I got c-carried away… and I… didn’t know how to express… or even un-understand my emotions…”

Wait, what’s this?

“You’re _not_ horrible, Logan,” murmurs Patton with force, feeling his heart overflow with tenderness. Logan shakes his head against Patton’s shoulder.

“I am, Patton. I was never supposed to have all these… f- _feelings_ , but here I am, aren’t I? I’m _Logic,_ and I can’t even keep calm and be detached like I’m _supposed_ to.”

Oh.

“I hate myself and everything I fail to b—”

“You _stop that right now, Logan.”_

Logan sobs, unintelligible.

What has he done?

“Logan, listen to me, alright? You've been in here too long. I'm taking you back, okay? It’s alright, sweetheart, it's gonna be alright, I'm so sorry I made you feel like this, it's gonna be okay.”

He smooths the other man’s hair out of his eyes and cradles his head, unable to stop the tears leaking from his eyes.

“It's okay, love,” he whispers. “We're getting you out of here.”

* * *

Fact: morality is not all that Patton is, and as such, honesty is not all his room specialises in.

Logan knows that, knew that when he came in here, knows it as Patton gently wraps strong arms around him and lifts him to his feet. He feels drained, exhausted of energy and disoriented, like he has to struggle to remember basic functions. His vision swims as he leans against the stronger man.

Fact: when they leave Patton’s room at last, it’s been over fifteen minutes. Patton is holding him, murmuring soothing things against his hair.

Logan wishes he’d managed to say what he was trying to.

* * *

Sinking down is more difficult with another person in his arms, but Patton manages it. He whispers _I love you_ -s and an _I’m sorry_ against Logan’s hair and rubs soothing circles into his back as he focuses on their new destination.

He hopes he never has to see Logan cry again.


	2. The Calm of Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> '"I got a lot of it wrong. The way I acted, the way I handled things, was… abominable. Hateful. I suppose that is just what I am.”
> 
> (He knows this like he knows the backs of his hands and the curve of Patton’s smile and the name of every constellation in the sky. To him, _hateful_ is a fact, is who he is.)
> 
> But Patton frowns.
> 
> “I’m pretty sure you're not completely immune to this room, Logan, so please. Stop lying to yourself.”'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I found a place to divide this chapter, so looks like there'll be three parts instead of two after all. Enjoy.
> 
> Originally titled: “I’m so Sorry about All that Angst Earlier”, which is a bit misleading because, well.

For the smart one, Logan can be pretty damn dense sometimes, Patton thinks as he lowers the unconscious logical Side onto his leather couch and loosens his tie.

The bed looks like Logan’s kept it there only for appearances. It's all clean sheets and springy mattress, weighed down at one end by piles and piles of hardcover books. The couch, meanwhile, worn black leather with a blanket thrown carelessly over the back and a worn novel lying on the floor next to it, leaves Patton to conclude that Logan’s probably never used this bed for its actual purpose more than maybe once. He can swear he sees a layer of dust on it, and resolves to get that fixed.

Logan lets out a sigh against his hand as Patton, kneeling next to him, removes his glasses carefully and sets them to the side along with the book. He looks spent, and Patton’s guilt surges before the room’s calm rationality settles on him.

 _He chose to go in there, knowing what would happen, and you did what you could,_ whispers the voice in his head, and it's Logan’s voice. _It's no one’s fault. Not this time._

Logic’s room, just as he thought, is stolid and predictable and calm. Unlike Patton’s room, apparently, which is not in fact _literally sunshine and rainbows_. Logan was the only one who realised that, and that’s the thing – after that, after everything, instead of running far away from Patton and his baggage and his emotional hurricane of a living space, he _came back._

He came back, and this calm, quietly whirring brainspace is already filling in the blanks: he came back so that Patton would know he was being sincere in everything he said. He came back to help himself express his own turbulent emotions, to remove his own inhibition and kneel and apologise for his own anger. He came back to prove he isn’t a heartless robot, as if he _needed_ to prove that –

Before he knows it, Patton is brushing his fingers softly over Logan’s cheek, blinking to clear the new tears welling up in his eyes.

Logic. Logan. His terribly brave, terribly sad Sherlock.

* * *

Logan wakes to a warm weight against his chest. He squints automatically as he realises his glasses are missing, and is instinctively running through a list of plausible theories as to where they could have gone before he pauses to register where he is.

The memories of probably-several-hours ago don’t take long to return, but the rush of emotion they bring is thankfully muted. Logan shuts his eyes again, somewhat defensively, and lists facts to help clear his head.

Fact: his face is sticky with dried tears. Fact: his neck feels stiff. Fact: his blanket is draped over him – the feathery-light soft one, which normally stays atop the couch. Fact: his glasses have been removed. Deduction: he is in his own room now; fact: it’s helping.

Fact: the weight against his chest just gave a gentle snore. He looks down and sees Patton.

(Fact: they have the _same basic appearance,_ so the thoughts that run through Logan’s mind make absolutely no logical sense, unless he lets himself think about it for too long, and he doesn't plan to.)

More facts: Patton’s hair looks lighter in the sunlight streaming in from the window, the purple glinting almost silver, and Logan more clearly sees the faint freckles he has that are only visible up close. His own glasses are still on his face, somewhat askew, and with one arm draped over Logan’s torso and his cheek pressed into his side, he looks very much like he didn’t _mean_ to have fallen asleep like this, sitting on the floor next to the couch, staking claim over Logan like a protector.

Like Logan _still_ means something good to him, which is…

( _Ludicrous,_ says one part of him, and _astounding,_ says another.)

What did he do, Logan wonders? What did he do in a past existence to be deserving of this patient, caring, infinitely good man’s attention?

Why on earth does Patton have feelings for him?

* * *

Patton stirs when he hears a thud and a whispered curse, and opens his eyes to see that Logan has knocked the book off the table back onto the floor. Pulling on his glasses from where they are folded next to his head allows him to notice other things, like the frustrated look on the man’s face as he stares over the edge of the couch and leans sideways, moving his lower body as little as possible.

(He's being a still surface for Patton, who melts a little at the thought.)

“Here,” he mumbles, drowsily reaching for it. His hand brushes against Logan's on the way there, and both of them pause.

The logical Side looks a little lost, and Patton decides there's no point making this awkward, so he lets his hand make a detour, sliding it into Logan’s and squeezing comfortingly before he lets go and grabs the book. When he looks up again Logan is staring at him, ridiculously confused and hopelessly pretty, and Patton feels his heart go _bump._

“Ahem. Sorry to wake you,” mutters Logan after a beat, adjusting his glasses like a nervous tic and looking away. “I intended to let you sleep for a little longer.”

“You didn't need to do that,” begins Patton with a breezy laugh, but Logan shakes his head.

“Your dark circles are darker than usual. I assume you haven't been resting well lately?”

There's no hiding from Logan, Patton thinks as he lets the exuberance fade from his expression. He smiles softly at the other and shakes his head. Logan’s expression changes, and Patton can practically see the cogs whirring in his brain.

“We… should probably talk, Patton,” he says, unsure of himself, and Patton nods.

Logan sits up, and Patton scrambles to remove his arm from across his chest before it falls somewhere it shouldn't. Logan catches his hand in mid-air, and looks surprised a second later, but Patton doesn't let him let go, using it to keep his balance as he picks himself up off the floor.

“Yeah,” he manages eventually, taking a deep breath and meeting Logan’s eyes. “We should.”

* * *

They end up sitting side by side on the couch, feet pulled up and hands still loosely intertwined, and fact: it's the closest they've ever sat together before today, and Patton’s body heat is better than the blanket. Logan feels nervous and comforted at the same time, and unsure of how to start the conversation.

Still, being in his own space is helping, and he's back in the game enough to be able to rule out _I never did say to you what I came to say because apparently I'm a coward from the bottom of my soul,_ and _I'm impressed that you still consider me worth your time and efforts,_ and _I've been rereading A Study in Scarlet and re-evaluating my existence how have you been?,_ and _I know you’re attracted to me for some reason and I don't understand it,_ and _lovely weather today don’t you think_ as suitable opening statements in a matter of milliseconds, which somewhat boosts his confidence.

Patton seems content to wait for him to find his words, and in the end he settles on, “I'm sorry about earlier. I was a mess.”

Patton smiles. “We were both a mess. The room just sorta picked up on it. Stop apologising for things that aren't your fault.”

There's something sad in the smile, and Logan senses the intent behind the words.

“But that _was_ my f—”

“Not all,” says Patton gently. “Not nearly enough.”

“I…”

He goes for the most basic question he can think of.

“Why aren’t you angry with me anymore?”

Patton’s eyes soften as he says, “You're too angry at yourself. Someone needs to balance it out.”

“Too angry?” Logan huffs a bitter laugh. “I certainly beg to differ–”

Patton reaches out and puts his free hand over Logan’s mouth.

Logan is too shocked to respond as the emotional Side continues, voice level. “Listen to me, Logan. Please. You're being too hard on yourself. You said and did some things that hurt me because I was already hurting, and you did it because… _logically_ it made sense. You were just trying to help Thomas recover.”

“But…” manages Logan weakly through Patton’s fingers, wondering at the back of his mind what his hand tastes like.

“But what, Logan?” presses Patton, his voice full to the brim with something very soft and warm and sad. “You were the one who saw through what _I_ was doing, trying to ignore everything and let Thomas just forget about his troubles. And… you saw through me. You got it right, Logan, you were the only person in there making sense. I was the one who failed you.”

His hand leaves Logan’s mouth only to slide to his ear and start carding through the short hair.

“I…” Logan begins when he can speak again. “I didn't, Patton, not entirely. I got a lot of it wrong. The way I acted, the way I handled things, was… abominable. Hateful. I suppose that is just what I am.”

(He knows this like he knows the backs of his hands and the curve of Patton’s smile and the name of every constellation in the sky. To him, _hateful_ is a fact, is who he is.)

But Patton frowns.

“I’m pretty sure you're not completely immune to this room, Logan, so please. Stop lying to yourself.”

* * *

Patton’s room amplifies emotions.

Not just happy emotions, although, God, he tries, but whatever emotion is really dominant at the time. It takes over one's senses, drowning out every directly opposing feeling and, apparently, the logical thought structure that rationalises those feelings. Only Patton can shield himself from the illegitimate thoughts tampered with by the haze, and is able to keep himself from completely breaking down. He supposes he's just adapted to it.

Logan’s room, on the other hand, magnifies logic and rationality, which really is fitting. To Patton, it feels like it does almost the opposite of his own room; he feels calmer in here, where reason is a comfortable layer settled on everything like Logan’s blanket. He’d once heard Roman suggest carelessly that Logan’s room blocked out emotions completely in order for him to do his job, but now that he's in here, Patton knows that was wrong. Instead of gone, his emotions are on a sort of muted hum, drawing into the background where he can take a step back and look at them objectively. He feels like he controls them here, somehow.

Maybe, he thinks, that's why Logan spends so much time in his room.

“Stop lying to yourself.”

Logan blinks in surprise and Patton realises he used his Dad voice. He softens it.

“You're not, and you will never be, a bad person,” he says, and Logan looks abruptly shaken. “Your bad thoughts are getting to you, making you think that, but listen to me, Logan, just listen. You can make mistakes. You don't have to have all the answers. You don't have to pretend you're a robot. Just because you're not _a_ feeling doesn't mean you can't _have feelings._ You can be angry, and you can be upset, and you can _feel_ as much as you like, and you can want to be listened to, without that reflecting badly on you.”

He swallows. It has to be said.

“If anything… it just reflects badly on the rest of us.”

Logan stays silent, biting his lip despite clear protest in his eyes, as Patton continues, “We should have… I should have paid more attention to what you were saying. If I had listened…”

“…What would have happened?” says Logan softly, when Patton can't continue. “We would have gotten out of there, possibly, and not solved anything. Thomas would still be miserable. You fixed things, in the end, by staying, while I… sulked.”

The last word is said with a bitter twist to his mouth, and Patton hates it, and because there’s no haze here in this beautiful bright room, he’s still thinking crystal-clearly when in a surge of spontaneous strength he leans forward and presses a kiss to Logan’s cheek, close to his mouth.

Logan stares at him, shocked, and Patton immediately wants to do it again.

“Wh…”

“Don't question it,” says Patton very softly, playing with Logan’s hair as he draws back. “Some things don't have to be logical.”

* * *

Fact: Logan wants to kiss him.

Logan wants to kiss him _badly_ and there's only one logical explanation he can think of for that.

But…

“But I don't understand it,” Logan blurts, dimly horrified at himself.

“Understand what?”

_“Why?”_

Patton’s expression changes and Logan knows he understands.

“Why what, Logan?”

“Why would you…? What reason have you ever had to be…?”

_Taken with me? Attracted to me? To desire me in the slightest?_

None of the words feel right, and he doesn't know why, but he brings his free hand up to where Patton’s is resting on his neck and cautiously covers it.

“…This,” he finishes, the room’s calming effect rapidly receding in Patton’s presence. “Why… this? Why do you care? About me?”

His voice trembles at the last moment and he curses inwardly.

“Oh, Logan,” whispers Patton, sadder than Logan’s ever heard him. “We all care about—”

“Not them,” blurts Logan, and there it is. _“You.”_

\--

He made this decision long ago, when Virgil-as-Anxiety started really coming into his asshole persona and began reminding Thomas of all the ways he was going to mess up and lose… _him._

Logan listened, and refuted points where possible, but it was harder than he thought when Patton’s eyes were on him, wide and shiny with tears and bright with trust that _Logic_ would save the day and let Thomas be happy, let _them_ be happy, and all Logan could think about was how everything Anxiety was saying was _right._ If he didn't manage to solve this problem with a happy outcome, the hope in those eyes would have been misplaced, and Thomas would be sad, and Patton would be sad, and Logan would be… useless.

And here was a fact: Logan was losing the argument. And Anxiety’s points were _valid_ , and his own deductions were leading him into one terrible conclusion, and there was no way he could save this situation and Thomas was looking more and more devastated by the minute...

_It’s the only real solution._

_There must be a different way. He can salvage this._

_All other paths lead to further disaster. This is the best choice he can make._

_But… ___

____

____

And Logan looked up and his eyes met the moral Side’s across the room, and the desperation in them almost made his heart stop beating.

 _Logan,_ Patton mouthed to him, lips trembling in a way that broke his heart. _Say something. Please._

Logan couldn't say anything. He couldn’t find his voice anymore.

Anxiety turned back to Thomas, quietly triumphant. And a tear rolled down Patton’s cheek and the only thought in Logan’s head was _I failed him._

And when it was all over and Thomas was picking up the pieces of his heart, Logan turned the whole situation over in his head again and again in his room, allowed himself to tweak the memory so that Anxiety was talking to him instead, reminding him of his flaws, of how obnoxious he could be, of how nobody liked him – know-it-all, smartass, stiff. Then he thought of Patton’s beaming smile, and eyes, and the time they shyly exchanged names, and Patton’s hugs that felt like home, and the hope they both clearly felt for the future, and the fluttering of his heart reached new heights. Then he thought of Anxiety again, and the tears on Patton’s face.

The logical conclusion was easy to grasp. Logan would just have to cut himself off from it all, and focus on the reasoning behind what he was going to do, and he would – should – be alright.

When he emerged from his room the next day, necktie firmly in place and eyes as cold as he could manage, he ignored Morality’s shock as he insisted, “Please, it's Logic.”

\--

Fact: the room is cold.

“Logan?” says Patton softly, with a frown, questioning. His hand is still resting against Logan’s neck. The blanket is draped over their knees and trailing on the floor.

Fact: Patton is warm.

Logan has tried pushing him away for months, but here they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If not before, the third and last chapter will be up on Friday or Saturday.


	3. The Strong of Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> '“You have always been, well, incredibly accepting, and patient, and I have no doubt that you would try to make my inadequacies work for you in every capacity, but that is the trouble, my dear.”
> 
> The word ‘dear’ stirs something nostalgic and sweet inside Patton. He lifts Logan’s hand to his mouth and kisses it again, just because he can.
> 
> “What are you afraid of?” he murmurs against them.
> 
> “Hurting you.”
> 
> Patton looks up, wondering. Logan’s eyes are closed.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the happy ending. Epilogue inclusive.  
> I just finished with midterms (yay, life) so I had to take a break from this, and then heavily edit/rewrite this part before I could consider it good enough to post. This is all conversation; I hope you enjoy anyway.

“Not them. _You.”_

Patton still doesn't get it for another second, until the room logic kicks in.

“Oh, Logan,” he whispers again, and the quiet hum of emotions surges up another few notches. “I should have figured you already know.”

“You’re a little obvious, you know,” mutters Logan. “And I’m a little smart.”

“Why shouldn’t I care about you, though?”

“Because I pushed you away,” says Logan, his voice cracking suddenly, “ _constantly._ I became as obnoxious as I could be. I was cold towards you, indifferent to your input, and acted as though I considered you perpetually annoying, frivolous, as if… I didn't like you. I even tried to believe that myself for some time. I predicted you would understand, as I did, that I'm not the person for you and _give up,_ and life would continue.”

“How can you say that, though?” bursts out Patton, unable to let it slide. “How can you assume that we can't work well together before we've even tried?”

“I was acting in our best interests, Patton,” says Logan sharply, and then looks immediately regretful. “Or… what I believed to be so.”

“But… why?”

It's a question that has a dozen different possible answers running around his mind, and Patton doesn't like most of them.

Logan rubs the bridge of his nose, and sighs. “Patton, how I act normally… it isn't a misrepresentation of myself. It's more of an… _over-_ representation. I exaggerate certain aspects of myself to the point where it becomes overbearing, because that's what you would be, well, getting into, if you chose to be with me. I decided to be, in essence, one hundred and fifty percent myself, so that you would stop thinking I was… attractive, and realise that you didn't desire me after all.”

Attractive.

Desire.

_Oh._

He is in _Logic’s_ room, talking to _Logic,_ and that is the most absurd line of logic Patton thinks he has ever heard from the other Side in his lifetime.

“You're serious, aren't you?” he murmurs, almost awed, and Logan shoots him a look and rebuffs, “I'm always serious.”

_“Logan.”_

“What?”

“How is that a logical argument?”

Logan opens his mouth to speak and then frowns.

“Why wouldn't it be?”

“What do you mean, _desire_ you? Is that all you thought?”

“What else?” retorts Logan sharply, voice suddenly strangled. “Was I to assume you could ever find me _likable?_ That it went beyond base attraction? What else was I supposed to conclude from your constant attentions? I’m not sweet or caring or _lovable_ like you are; all I have to offer is intellectual capacity and perhaps the ability to shut my mouth once in a while, so what else is it you see in me? What else could it possibly be, Patton? Tell me, because I would really like to know.”

He finishes in a rush, his voice echoing loudly in the suddenly silent room.

“I… You…” falters Patton, still reeling. “You… can’t be serious.”

It feels like the room’s primary effect has worn off: his emotions are almost entirely back in full force, and what's more, he can feel them with a clarity he's never felt before. There is no haze clouding his judgment, but instead a sort of humming in his brain that seems to be heightening his senses, making the sunlight streaming through the window onto them look brighter, feel warmer, set Logan’s vibrant hair on fire.

And apparently, the same isn’t true for Logan, whose internal logic is so flooded with self-doubt that it barely escapes illogicality itself.

“Of course I'm serious,” rebuffs Logan. “Again. Always serious.”

He gestures pointedly to the necktie as if it proves his point, and Patton wants to rip it off to prove his own.

“So you think I just see you as a pretty face?”

“What? Of course not,” frowns Logan, looking thrown. “We have the same face. That’s not what I-”

“Listen to me,” Patton insists, grabbing Logan’s hands firmly. “Listen here and listen well: _you’re wrong.”_

Logan freezes just a little bit. “What?”

“You’re absolutely wrong,” repeats Patton firmly, not backing down. “You made a fundamental error in your judgment and you got it _wrong_ and I’m fed up with you not believing in your own wonderful qualities.”

Logan blinks at him.

“Did – did you just use the word ‘fundamental’?”

“Yes I did, and that's irrelevant.”

“Did you just use the word _‘irrelevant’?”_

_“Logic.”_

He uses his Dad voice again by accident, and Logan looks shaken.

“I know you're trying to stall. It's not gonna work.”

Logan just looks at him, looking a little like a confused puppy – wide eyes and an unconscious pout. Patton has to work to keep his face from twitching, but he succeeds.

“But,” Logan says at last quietly. “How?”

Patton smiles and softens his voice.

“It’s pretty obvious. You got it wrong because you just assume you're unlovable.”

Logan’s eyes widen. There’s a long moment of stillness while Patton takes a breath.

_“Lov—”_

He cuts off Logan’s protest. “You're _not_ unlovable, Logan. I wish you’d realise that. You're… admirable, and interesting, and dedicated to your work, and you're undeniably adorable don't argue and I love watching you make arguments, and study your vocabulary, and figure things out. And I love watching you do puzzles, because you get this little frowny look on your face but it's a good frown, like you're _happy_ , and I love seeing you happy. And I love that you make flashcards for new vocab words because you don't consider yourself above learning new things from other people. And I want to _be with you_. I want to be there for you and spend time with you and listen to your theories for hours, and stargaze with you while you identify every constellation in the sky and make you instrumental playlists to help you sleep, and I – what I’m trying to say is, Logan, I don’t just _want_ you, I–”

Before he can say the important word there's a hand over his mouth, resting there as lightly as a butterfly.

“A minute,” murmurs Logan after several long moments, cheeks rosy and eyes downcast. “Please.”

Patton fights down the urge to kiss Logan’s palm and slowly nods.

* * *

Logan is having trouble processing things.

_Fact Patton’s breath is warm fact it’s sunny outside fact this couch is designed to accommodate far more space between us than there currently is fact Patton is out of his mind fact he essentially just told me he finds me more than satisfactory how I am._

Which makes no sense at all. Right?

Patton watches him with patient eyes as Logan struggles with formulating words before giving up. At one point he removes Logan’s hand from his mouth, presses a kiss to the knuckles, and keeps it clasped in his own, tracing Logan’s fingernails and the patterns of the veins along the back of his hand, and he still doesn’t speak, resting his head against the back of the couch, content to wait for Logan.

Logan apparently _was_ wrong. Someone like Patton, blessed and infinitely wonderful soul that he is, is evidently capable of loving anyone and justifying it.

The stargazing idea sounds lovely.

“The stargazing idea sounds lovely.”

He bites his tongue when those are the first words out of his mouth. Patton smiles at him, eyes shining, and Logan can’t bear it.

“Would you like to give it a try, then?” asks Patton, hope colouring his voice.

“I…”

This won’t do.

“It’s not just… that.”

The innocent needs to know the truth.

* * *

“Go on,” encourages Patton when Logan doesn’t speak for a full thirty seconds.

“It's not… that I don't think you could… that you wouldn't consider me worth the trouble,” says Logan hesitantly, after a few beats. His eyes are trained on the floor. “You have always been, well, incredibly accepting, and patient, and I have no doubt that you would try to make my inadequacies work for you in every capacity, but that is the trouble, my dear.”

The word ‘dear’ stirs something nostalgic and sweet inside Patton. He lifts Logan’s hand to his mouth and kisses it again, just because he can.

“What are you afraid of?” he murmurs against them.

“Hurting you.”

Patton looks up, wondering. Logan’s eyes are closed.

“I have failed you in the past, Patton. Back when… back before the entire… mess with… _him_ …”

“Mm.”

Both pause for a second as they dwell on it, then Logan continues quietly.

“…you turned to me. In the hope that I would be able to come up with a solution that benefitted all of us. I could not, and… you…”

Logan draws a measured breath and Patton could swear he sees the sunlight around them flicker.

“You were devastated, Patton. I remember it clearly. All I was able to process was that I’d done that to you by my own failure, by my own lack of touch with emotions, by my own biases in the argument from my closeness to the issue myself, due to my fondness for you; the list goes on. I… decided that I wouldn’t let that happen again. I wasn’t about to allow you to mistakenly place your faith in me again, only to inevitably shatter it. So I… pulled back. As much as I could.”

Silence takes over when Logan has finished speaking. Patton feels his heart ache.

“That’s when you… drew back,” he muses softly, remembering the way the logical Side had avoided contact for days, been sharp and caustic when spoken to, refused to be called by his name. “I didn’t… I didn’t understand it.”

“I’m sorry, Patton,” replies Logan, almost whispering. “I’m so sorry I failed you.”

“Stop that,” he manages, forcing the words past the lump in his throat. “Stop being sorry about everything. Please, Logan, it wasn’t your fault. It had to happen. Please… stop hating yourself for doing your job. _Forgive yourself.”_

The last words burst out of him before he feels his voice catch.

“Patton…?” he hears, concern evident in the tone, before the hand in his shifts and Logan gives a quiet, sharp inhale and says with an almost awed horror, “You’re crying.”

He looks back at Logan’s hand to see that huh, there’s a drop of water there that wasn’t there earlier, and oh look, another.

“Why…?”

Patton laughs shakily through the tears. “I don’t really know.”

“How even…?” whispers Logan, drawing closer. “Not the best time but… are you… are you immune to this room?”

“Maybe,” mumbles Patton through the thickness of his throat, and Logan gathers him close immediately. His hands stutter awkwardly, as though he doesn’t quite know what to do now, but then Patton feels the logical Side inhale deeply and relax, shifting to be comfortable.

“This does point towards support of a theory I’ve had for some time,” he says quietly as he strokes Patton’s hair. “Would… would you like to hear it? It may distract you.”  
Patton nods into Logan’s shoulder. He does.

“In essence, as you are the oldest Side to exist in Thomas’ psyche, you retain a certain strength to your own mind that the rest of us do not. The concept is similar to theories of psychological development that suggest that concepts learned at earlier ages are more solidified in the mind and more difficult to shake off. Patton, I --”

“Keep talking. It helps,” mumbles Patton into Logan’s shirt, and Logan talks, and it helps.

* * *

Logan keeps talking, keeps stroking Patton’s (fact: very soft) hair, keeps talking, bites down the urge to apologise, keeps talking. He keeps his voice as steady as possible, until Patton’s breaths grow measured and calm and he sits up, scrubbing at his eyes under his glasses.

“—in effect, a room belonging to any one of us theoretically holds roughly as much sway over the others as does that particular Side on Thomas’ psyche, on both a situational and a dispositional level,” Logan finishes, a little out of breath. “As the most stable construction of Thomas’ personality, you not only hold the most sway of all of us, but your own influence could surpass that of my room on you, especially with Thomas’ reasoning skills as shaky as they are at this current time while he’s in the middle of his REM cycle.” Pause. “Are you alright now?”

Patton smiles a smile at him that makes Logan’s heart briefly swell. “Yes. Thank you. Sorry about that.”

“No, I should be the one apologising,” bursts Logan, unable to rein it in. “I made you cry. Again. See, this is why I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to–”

“Finish that sentence, I dare you,” says Patton, looking at him in such a way that Logan can’t bring himself to do so. He settles for a meek, “You get it.”  
Patton wipes away the last of his tears and suddenly pauses, looking like he just remembered something.

“Are you sure you’re quite alright, Patton?” Logan feels the urge to ask again. “Please don’t lie. I’m really not very good at emotions, so I’m afraid I may be misinterpreting a lot, and –”

“Oh, Logan,” Patton sighs, smiling suddenly for some reason. “Did I hear you say you were fond of me?”

Oh. Oops.

Logan chews his lip, frustrated at himself for having let it slip, but decides to see this through with dignity. It’s now or never.

“I did,” he admits quietly. “And I was. Very much so. And…”

Patton smiles at him and it gives him the courage.

“And I still am. More than just fond of you, if I’m honest. If that wasn’t clear.”

His head feels a little light.

Patton’s smile shifts gears into something radiant.

* * *

Logan may not be good at emotions, but Patton is.

He knows exactly what Logan means, and his heart is swelling.

* * *

“But that doesn’t matter, because this is highly unlikely to work out.”

Logan’s words seem to fall on deaf ears as Patton keeps smiling.

“Patton?”

“I’m listening,” laughs Patton, and his laugh sounds so _happy_ that it confuses Logan. “What gives you the opinion that we wouldn’t work out?”

“Haven’t you been paying attention?” sighs Logan, frustrated. “I just… I’m going to hurt you, Patton, don’t you realise it? Sooner or later we’ll be at odds again because that’s just how we naturally _are_ , and how comfortable is a romantic relationship where two people are constantly in opposition to each other?”

“Don’t think of it like that,” says Patton, infinitely patiently. “We’re not _always_ at odds. And we can work through it. Reach a compromise. Isn’t that good? Letting the heart and mind reach a compromise?”

“That last time, Patton,” Logan reminds him quietly.

“That,” says Patton calmly, “was one time. It’s not going to happen again, sweetheart, and if it does, it’ll be okay, because we know this is our job. We take care of Thomas, in our own ways, and sometimes that makes us have to prioritise his well-being. When you couldn’t argue with Virgil, and you realised Thomas and… he… had to end their relationship for their own good, it _was_ for their own good. I was upset. I still feel sad about it sometimes, but… I don’t doubt that decision. Ever. I know it was the right one.”

Logan can’t respond to that. Patton gently rubs a thumb over his knee.

“So don’t worry, okay?” he says. “It can’t hurt to try.”

“It just… seems like this is doomed to failure,” exhales Logan, letting his forehead crease in frustration. “So, logically, shouldn’t we not take the risk?”

“I get why you’d think so, Logan.” Patton’s hands move to cup Logan’s face. “But I definitely don’t agree with it. Has it ever occurred to you that you’re stuck on just one particular brand of logic?”

“You’re talking more formally than usual,” notes Logan, more out of genuine curiosity than a desire to stall, and Patton grins. “It must be one of the side effects of the room. That’s kind of interesting.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

“What if I am? Stuck, I mean,” frowns Logan, trying not to sound defensive. “Are you saying you see another side to things that I don’t?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“I do see another way of looking at things, Logan,” says Patton firmly. “I’m not as silly as I pretend to be.”

“I never doubted _that_ ,” murmurs Logan, still a little nonplussed. “I… just don’t see it. What am I missing?”

Patton starts laughing. And again, that should technically be highly unlikely to happen in what’s supposed to be the calmest portion of Thomas’ mind, but Patton has always been the exception to all his rules, the sort of person who will surpass all limitations and defy natural order with his own personal brand of sunlight, so Logan supposes it should make logical sense, in a twisted sort of way.

“Oh, Logan,” says Patton warmly. “Haven’t you ever considered taking a risk?”

“Not if the risk involves _hurting you and the both of us._ Don’t you understand what you’re getting into?”

“Of course I am,” slings back Patton. “I just don’t think _you_ understand what I’m getting into.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Yes, it does.”

Patton shifts closer to Logan, their knees bumping together.

“Consider this one scenario,” he says, looking him straight in the eye. “You don’t hurt me. I don’t hurt you. Both of us work through any issues we have. Refute that.”

“Well…” begins Logan, and trails off, because he… can’t.

“Well?” prompts Patton. “Ever thought about why you’d run away from the possibility of _that_ happening? Would you say no to that?”

Logan can’t.

* * *

“I.”

“Yeah?” prods Patton eventually when Logan seems to space out.

“No… You… I… I don’t know,” mutters Logan in a strangled sort of tone. “I… haven’t really… thought about it.”

Patton stares, feeling a little – just a little – incredulous.

“You haven’t _ever_ thought about a scenario in which you didn’t lose me through some fault of your own?” he asks, to confirm, and Logan bows his head in acknowledgement, looking a bit like he’s struggling with a test question.

“You didn’t think that was possible? That I could, you know, understand what I’m getting into, and want to be with you anyway? You don’t remember that that’s what got _Thomas_ to take a chance, and make some of the happiest memories of his life?”

Logan’s eyes remain trained on Patton’s knees.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Logan: it was worth it. It was worth it for Thomas, because he got to be happy for a long time, and even now he has the good memories. And in different circumstances maybe it would have worked out, but you know what they did? They tried. They put in their best shot, and something beautiful came out of it because they took a _chance.”_

Patton clasps Logan’s hands firmly. He knows from the look on Logan’s face that this is his best chance.

“You didn’t think about the fact that it’s _always_ a risk, something like this, but people do it anyway because it’s worth it?”

A shake of the head.

“You don’t think that maybe _I_ consider you worth it?”

A hollow laugh. Logan continues to stare at their interlocked hands.

“Do you?” he says at last, barely above a murmur.

“Of _course_ ,” says Patton, shaking his head at this blind, blind man. “Don’t you feel the same?”

Logan stays quiet for a long time, and then speaks again in the same tone, as though he’s just re-evaluated everything he knew and come out a new man.

“Of course.”

And there it is.

“Logan?” he says loudly, because it needs to be said. “I love you. And you’re very smart. But you’re an idiot.”

Logan looks up as Patton grips his hands tighter.

“I see that,” he says, very quietly, and Patton’s thoughts are still crystal clear.

* * *

Fact: Patton’s hands are firm over his.

Fact: Patton’s eyes are blazing and dark.

Fact: Patton is closer than before.

Fact: Patton’s mouth is warm. Fact…

* * *

Kissing Logan feels like coming home. Patton wishes he had done this sooner.

Logan remains perfectly still for a long, tranquil moment, and then he melts forward just a little to stop Patton as he begins to break contact, and when they finally do break contact it feels like days later and Patton’s arms are around Logan and Logan’s hands are gripping his shoulders and the blanket is on the floor.

Then they do it again.

And again, shorter.

They meet each other’s eyes in the silence, both half-bathed in pale light from the window.

Logan smiles.

* * *

#### Epilogue: Believe

“Hey, are you awake?”

They’re still stretched on the couch in a tangle of limbs, enjoying each other’s company. Patton’s head is resting on his shoulder this time, as Logan insisted he should be more comfortable than he was on the floor just a few hours ago, while Logan’s hand loosely circles around his back and meets the moral Side’s own in a loose clasp, rising and falling with their chests.

“I am indeed,” Logan answers. “Is something troubling you?”

“Not exactly,” says Patton with a hundred-watt smile, twisting a bit and propping himself up to look at Logan directly. “Just wanted to tell you I love you again.”

A Patton is a Patton is a Patton. Logan quirks his mouth at him, a rush of affection flooding through him (Thomas is back in REM sleep) as he leans in to kiss the other Side.

“Someday I’ll understand why,” he muses out loud, but although he doesn’t feel ready to return the words just yet he softly smiles at Patton to let him know his feelings are acknowledged and reciprocated in full.

He thinks he likes how Patton and his room complement each other, combine in a way that genuinely seems, if not outright pleasant, at least not harmless. The sunlight is tinted pink, now, and Patton’s been in Logan’s room for much longer than he’s known any Side to remain in another’s space before, and is showing no adverse effects – only a humorous tendency towards some of Logan’s everyday vocabulary and mostly-increased rationality, which doesn’t clash horribly with his nature and which he doesn’t appear to mind.

All in all, Logan thinks his room might soon be occupied more often than usual.

“Really, though,” adds Patton as he lays down again. “I need you to know that. Really, really know that, know that I don’t believe either of us are gonna mess up in some huge unsolvable way, or that I might just stop loving you even if that does happen. We’re adults. We can work it out.”

He snuggles into Logan, who readjusts the blanket over them and hums in acknowledgment.

“I believe you,” he says, softly. It’s not quite _I love you_ , but it’s about as close as he can get to saying it right now. _I believe you._

And he does, he thinks, a glow in his chest as he turns to gaze out of the window. He really, really does.

* * *

“Plus.”

He hears the smile in Patton’s voice. “Yes?”

“I don’t want you making any more _blanket_ assumptions about our relationship,” says Patton, and bursts into laughter as Logan groans loud and petulant.

“I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Oh, soften _nap._ ”

_“No.”_

“Don’t take it so _bedl—”_

Logan silences him with a kiss, and Patton knows they’ll be okay.

* * *

  
_"For God's sake hold your tongue, and let me love."_

_-John Donne, 'The Canonization'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my beta Marium (go follow her on Instagram @mariyubart, she's the best artist I know!) for taking the time out of a packed schedule to give me a whole lot of advice about this fic and help me evaluate it, even though she didn't have time to micro-edit more than the first bit, and also for being the one person I trust enough to show my first drafts to.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and for your feedback, which was honestly the most inspiring and cheering stuff. I'm relatively new to actually publishing fanfiction, so all your comments and kudos are hugely encouraging and make my day brighter. I really hope you guys enjoyed this.
> 
> Do consider subscribing if you liked this fic; I have more Sanders Sides on the way. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, I did say happy ending for a reason.
> 
> Tumblr: [@just-fic-me-up](just-fic-me-up.tumblr.com). Come rant at me!


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